


Unknown King

by storm_dog_pirate



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, and also bc it does somehow makes sense if he was one, because the lack of tidemakers in canon is a def slander, im prolly rewriting kos now bc HAKFLHAFKJAHF, some Tidemaker!Nik, timeline would be pre-kos to kos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:28:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28770846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_dog_pirate/pseuds/storm_dog_pirate
Summary: Nikolai Lantsov has a secret, and it is something that can't be known by all.
Relationships: Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Part I

Nikolai Lantsov wasn’t a man with a lot of secrets. Being someone of a royal bloodline meant little to almost no privacy, and along with it were rumors sometimes dangerously close to the truth while others were just downright absurd. But perhaps he understood why people would talk; they loved having something to pique their attention. Even if it was something strange and impossible— _improbable,_ as he preferred—they would twist the ‘truth’ to their own liking and satisfy their belief.

There were many things the people could handle. The one thing they could never manage was the truth.

And for the current king of Ravka, him being Grisha wasn’t something anyone could accept.

* * *

\---

Staring blankly at the cup of coffee in front of him, Nikolai didn’t mind the rising voices from his Commander and some duke from Ivets. Or was it Os Kervo? Arkesk? He didn’t remember. But wherever he came from, the disrespectful tone he was currently using with Zoya was starting to make Nikolai’s ears ring.

“I have sworn fealty to the crown,” the duke was telling Zoya. Nikolai had even forgotten his name, which was new. He always remembered names. “You do not get to talk to me about issues of loyalty, because _my_ kind had never turned against the throne.”

It ticked something in Nikolai’s attention, making him look up from the mug in front of him. He raised an eyebrow in the duke’s direction, but the latter seemed to be focused on trying to overpower his General.

There was a shift in the mood, and the atmosphere had become colder. “What did you say?” Zoya said, her voice quiet and laced with underlying anger that was begging to be released. “I didn’t quite understand what you meant by that, Duke Reznov. May I ask you to repeat that?”

“I believe I didn’t stutter, General,” Reznov replied. “Don’t presume we’ve forgotten who created the Fold that affected us for _centuries_.”

Zoya’s hand twitched, and she lowered it to her lap to hide her now clenched fist.

“No one is forgetting that, Sir Reznov,” Nikolai said mildly. He remembered the man now. The duke of Os Kervo—Ravka’s port city. He tried to offer a smile to the duke, hoping that it didn’t look forced to give away his rising temper. “But can I request you to watch your tone? You are still speaking to the General of Ravka.”

He knew Zoya wasn’t the type to have someone defend her as he trusted her to be able to do it on her own, but their current situation deemed it necessary.

“I was wondering when you would speak, Your Highness.” Reznov gave him a polite smile, his expression changing as if he weren’t just trying to insult the General a moment ago. “Should we get to the actual business?”

Nikolai had already anticipated the direction the conversation was going, and yet he still found himself slowly getting peeved. Perhaps he himself wasn’t that pessimistic and expected the better from the duke. He shouldn’t have set his expectations that high for someone of West Ravka.

“We were already talking, Duke Reznov,” said Zoya. Her voice had lowered to a much deadlier tone. But if the duke noticed it, he didn’t bother acknowledging her. “Maybe you should—”

“ _Maybe_ I should make it clear that you are on my property, Nazyalensky, and you are not the king,” Reznov said with enough spite to make Nikolai’s almost nonexistent rage resurface. He was trying to look neutral, but a look of disgust was evident in the duke’s eyes. “If you want something from me, I will speak only to the king, and the king alone.”

The whole room became silent, and there was no denying the sudden tension that spiked in the air. Tamar, who was guarding the door alongside the duke’s head of security, almost looked like she was ready to lunge at Reznov the moment Nikolai allowed her to. She turned her gaze to him, but he only shook his head lightly, and Tamar relaxed.

It wasn’t the time to let emotions get the best of them. Business was business. And if the duke would continue to be the donkey’s ass Nikolai knew him to be, then he should probably give him a hindsight of what he knew.

He glanced at Zoya out of the corner of his eye. This was one of the rare times he would allow her to act out her anger and cut the air out of the duke’s lungs for a moment—a warning of what she was capable of. She had every right to, after everything Reznov had said to her. He wouldn’t let one of his close confidantes be talked down by someone of lower rank than her.

But more than two years of having to endure people still being hostile around his Grisha Triumvirate had made her an expert of putting on a neutral face. Even though her jaw was set and her eyes were burning with fury, she only huffed, leaning back in her chair. He could already hear her sharp tone in his head, when she would go off on a tirade of insults in the confines of their war room or his chambers.

More patience was needed than he expected. Duke Reznov was all too smug and egotistical for his own liking, and Nikolai decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Very well,” Nikolai said. He leaned back in his chair, mustering the calmest look he could offer and smiling subtly. “Let us indeed talk, Sir Reznov.” He took the teaspoon on the small plate on the side and began mixing the coffee in his mug again. “Perhaps we should start with the taxes you somehow were able to evade for the past three years?”

Reznov’s face became pale, and Nikolai had to fight a smirk on his lips. There was a reason he made Tamar the head of intelligence. Her network of spies always did wonders when gaining information.

“Is this a threat?” asked Reznov, his voice rising an octave. He huffed in disbelief as he looked at Nikolai, and then at Zoya. “Is this because I refused to talk with your General?”

Nikolai shrugged. “Maybe.”

“And then maybe I should make it clear that I do not negotiate with her, Your Highness,” the duke said, emphasizing the word in disgust as if it were some lowly scum begging for scraps. “I do not negotiate with _Grisha_.”

The coffee in the mug suddenly erupted, its contents spilling on the table as the cup tipped sideways. Nikolai felt his jaw twitch with suppressed fury as he tried to calm himself down. He felt everyone’s attention on him. It didn’t help. The fear of them knowing the truth caused his thoughts to fall into shambles. He could feel his control slipping away with each second.

_Quick_. His hand was still holding the teaspoon, and he focused his attention there.

_Our abilities are like our emotions, Your Highness,_ Tolya’s voice during their time on the seas echoed in his head. _If we prefer to not show it, then we should learn how to control it and separate it from feelings._

He wished he hadn’t let his anger take over that one morning when he was eight. If he knew even before, would it have been different?

_Nikolai nothing._

His late brother’s voice overpowered the voices of Tolya and Tamar trying to remind him to regain control.

The young Nikolai had been consumed by anger back then, the immediate force of his power rushing through his blood, and the peaceful waters of the lake were disturbed and he was directing the waves towards his older brother.

He would never forget the look of horror and disgust both his father and brother gave him when they knew of his abilities.

A gentle nudge on his arm jolted him out of the nightmare, and Nikolai turned to see Zoya staring at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. She jutted her chin down, gesturing to his side. He blinked, and it was only then he became aware that his other hand clenched in a fist was trembling badly. His mind panicked.

Did she come to realize it was him?

But when she didn’t do anything else besides letting go of his arm, he figured she hadn’t caught up yet.

_Good_ , he thought. No one else needs to know. _She didn't_ need _to know_.

The twins were some of the few people who knew about his secret, and they had been a huge help to him when he was learning how to manage it again. But he figured maybe his abilities were just too tied with his emotions to separate them.

Nikolai looked forward again, his gaze returning to the duke, who still had a bewildered expression on his face. He offered him a smile. “My apologies, Sir Reznov,” he said, unclenching his hand at his side. _Deep breaths._ “I believe my hand suddenly had a mind of its own and decided to tip the cup.”

Reznov's eyes were hard, but his tone was calm and composed when he said, "That is no problem, Your Highness. Please leave it, the servants will take care of it later."

Movements from the door caught his eye, making Nikolai look up, and he met Tamar’s narrowed gaze as if she were saying, what was that. He almost felt guilty for forgetting all the things they taught him. With a small grimace, he gave the guard an apologetic look.

He could feel Zoya’s gaze on him as he turned his attention back to the duke, who was now looking at him with hostility that he only gave Zoya earlier. Maybe it was time to remove the mask of the considerate king and show the manipulative persona he had developed after years of traveling the seas.

“Then let’s get back to business, shall we?” said Nikolai. He ignored the look of protest on Reznov’s face. “I will get straight to the point, _Reznov_.” Time to drop the pretense of being calm. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I do not take lightly to people who are trying to deceive the crown and its people. What you’ve done is a serious offense, and the sentence is how many years in prison again, General?”

“Six years,” replied Zoya. The smugness in her tone returned, and he could practically see her fighting back a smirk. “Minimum.”

Nikolai nodded in understanding, as if it was his first time hearing about the information. “Six years is quite a long time, don’t you think?” He furrowed his eyebrows when a thought clicked in his head. “I wonder how would the duke of Arkesk react when he learns that the person who asked for his sponsorship for the additional ports is suddenly charged with tax evasion?” He leaned back in his chair and raised his hands casually. “He wouldn’t be able to embezzle a part of the overpriced port fees now, would he?”

By that time, Reznov had gone completely white, and he looked like a puppy backed into a corner with no way out. Nikolai regarded him with a mere raise of an eyebrow. Everything was starting to tilt back to their advantage. Perhaps the way he dealt with the situation was cruel, but he wouldn’t have laid down his cards if Reznov had been at least friendly from the start.

“You—you have no evidence that I did it. My assistant will show you the records—”

“ _Your_ assistant was more willing to talk than I expected.” Nikolai sneered, and then he laughed lightly. He could never forget the look on the assistant’s face when Nikolai and the twins paid him a visit sometime last week. “Didn’t even need to finish the question for him to start spilling everything. He even gave us your _real_ financial records. I have to say the numbers were quite...unusual. So far from the fake ones you use for the sake of having a government record.”

He could basically see the duke fuming, and if it were some other time, he was sure he would have savored the look on Reznov’s face. But Nikolai didn’t feel anything else other than resentment, and it was mostly towards himself. There was still a part of him that said this wasn’t the right way to handle things.

_Not the time to have a moral dilemma_ , _Lantsov_ , he told himself. It was the only way to make it through this meeting without doing something even worse.

The tense silence stretched in the room, with Nikolai and the duke having a stare down. Whatever authority Reznov thought he had earlier dissipated to nothing, the defeated look in his eyes slowly becoming evident as he shifted his gaze back and forth to Nikolai and his general. It only took him a few more moments of consideration until he spoke.

“What do you want?”

Nikolai felt a triumphant smirk twitch on his lips. “Five ports for my own ships,” he said, raising a finger when Reznov looked like he was about to protest. “And twenty percent of the total revenue of the rest of the ports will go directly to the country’s funds.”

Reznov huffed in disbelief. “This is extortion.”

“Tell that to honest sailors and workers that were still paying your overpriced rates. The money that was supposed to be for the people just went straight to your pockets, Reznov. This is the least you could do.” Nikolai shook his head. “Do we have a deal, then?”

The duke of Os Kervo didn’t answer right away, the unwillingness to agree to the terms evident in his angry gaze. Nikolai knew Reznov had no choice other than to accept, unless he wanted to see the rest of his trading business shut down because of bankruptcy, so the king of Ravka did what he did best—take advantage of the situation as much as he could.

And that was exactly what he did.

_You’re no different from your father and the kings before him, his conscience said_. But he shoved it away. It wasn’t the right time to lament over things he had already done, otherwise he might risk losing control again and giving his identity away.

People were already hesitant to trust Grisha working for the crown. What more if they knew that their king was of the same kind they were so adamant against putting their faith in?

He had been lying to them his whole life, he could still lie for a much longer time.

The duke’s voice came later, and when he finally spoke, it was in a begrudging tone. “Done.”

Nikolai heard Zoya release a breath, and then he gave Reznov a smile that looked more mocking than grateful. “Thank you for consideration, Sir Reznov,” he said. “You have done greatness for your country today. Such an act won’t be easily forgotten.” He stood up and held out his hand for a shake, but the duke didn’t as much as move from his place and just stared at his hands on the table, refusing to acknowledge the gesture. Nikolai almost pitied him. He let his hand fall to his side. “Well, then. I think we’re finished here. Zoya?”

His general stood up without another word, stepping back to let him pass first before she followed him. He knew he should be feeling triumphant, they just got a better deal than they had planned. Coming all the way to Os Kervo wasn’t a waste, after all. But he felt nothing. Empty.

And as he walked out of the duke’s office, then out of the estate, his hands were still trembling.

_There is no place for a Grisha king._

Nikolai was starting to believe it.


	2. Part II

His blood was still ringing in his ears even as they were already out of the duke’s estate. Nikolai knew he should have calmed down by now, considering the time that had passed. But his earlier outburst kept him on the edge. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He almost gave himself away.

Was it because of stress? Or was the fatigue looming over his shoulders for the past weeks had built up too much and caused him to have a sudden surge of power in him? Everything was the usual prior today; the meetings, the headaches, the endless problems that came from left and right. They were the constants in their duties. So why did he snap today? It could have been any time yesterday or the day before that.

Something clicked in his mind. He remembered the twins warning him about trying to neglect his abilities for long, saying that it would take a toll on his body and leave him exhausted and restless. Maybe that could have been the reason. 

Though they can’t just expect him to use his powers from time to time as he was always in the palace. Being inside the confines of the capital meant guards and basically anyone could be watching everywhere. Nikolai couldn’t have that, and _they_ couldn’t know the truth. 

His family treating him like some kind of monster was already terrible enough. But a whole country of people? It might be a cause of another revolution, and he didn’t want any more wars to come to his people again. They expect him to be the one to start dragging them out of centuries’ worth of misery done by a man with greed much bigger than his humanity and powers beyond comparison. 

Saints only knew how people would look at him if they knew about his truth.

Nikolai let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. Merely thinking about it already brought another wave of stress in his mind, and he would welcome any kind of distraction if it meant pulling him out of his thoughts.

Realizing that there won’t be anything unless he did something, he turned his attention to the ever scowling face of his general sitting across him. Zoya jolted in her seat, as if she hadn’t expected him to suddenly look at her, and she quickly recovered with a narrowed glance.

“Busy staring now, aren’t we, Nazyalensky?” he said smoothly, an easy grin coming to his lips like he hadn’t just been mulling over his existence a moment ago. Hiding under various masks was always his specialty. “I have to say, I would be staring at me too when I have the chance.”

Zoya huffed. “I’m only making sure you don’t decide to haul yourself out of the carriage,” she said. There was a slight hesitation in her eyes before she added, “You look troubled.”

_Breathe and deflect_. Just like he always did. “Worry not, dearest general,” said Nikolai, I assure you this is a normal expression after doing something unethical.”

“So you’re having a moral dilemma now.”

“I prefer ‘my conscience trying to speak some sense to me’, but yours is a shorter way to say it.” He shrugged. “I’ll take that.”

“You’re fine, then,” Zoya said. She leaned back comfortably in her seat, some of the stiffness on her shoulders disappearing. “You still talk too much.” 

Nikolai put a hand over his heart. “I am flattered you noticed.”

She just shook her head and didn’t say anything else. Another silence stretched in the coach again, but it was less tense this time, with the momentary distraction from their conversation easing the weight in his chest. Perhaps he still sounded convincing enough for her not to press further.

But when she continued sending wary looks at his way as the trip progressed, he felt a bit nervous and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if he had something to hide. There wasn’t anyone inside the carriage except them—Tamar had chosen to ride on horseback at their rear, while her brother manned the coach. Zoya looked like she wanted to say something more, but she kept holding back and turning to the window instead. 

Sometimes he wished he could read her mind, to know the thoughts that plagued her, so it didn’t feel like he were reaching in the dark whenever he decided to strike up a conversation. 

"Do tell me what's bothering you, Nazyalensky, and let's both end our misery," Nikolai said. He meant it as a jest, but his tone came out in a tired voice instead. "When you furrow your eyebrows like that, you look like you're about to lunge and strangle me where I sit." 

“That is exactly what I’m thinking of every single day I wake up and meet you in the war room,” said Zoya, fluffing her hair over her shoulders. He would have answered back something sarcastic if it weren’t for the flash of uneasiness in her eyes. Something was definitely bothering her. “I am just holding back, Your Highness.”

If there was something they had in common, it was deflecting matters they didn’t want to talk over by starting a banter with snarky remarks. Their only difference was that Nikolai was the first one to reach out and try to ask her about it.

“Zoya,” he said, and Zoya snapped alert like a soldier being called by their commander. “What is it?”

She held his gaze, a conflicted look evident in her eyes. It was rare to see her not getting straight to the point; she always liked facing everything head on while he preferred beating around the bush for a while before giving in. “It’s not something serious,” Zoya replied. “I just found your earlier behavior strange.” 

Cold dread washed over Nikolai, and his throat felt completely dry. He put on his usual easy-going grin to cover up his nervousness. “Ah, yes. The reason for my moral dilemma,” he said. He fought the urge to drum his fingers to his knees. Zoya knew that tell. “Fret not, dearest general, I promise not to do it again.”

The crease between her eyebrows remained. “You were different,” she said quietly, and this made him wince. He hadn’t felt like himself either. She seemed to realize her tone and recovered with a shake of her head. “Sometimes I keep forgetting you’re the king.”

_And you’re capable of being cruel too_ , was what Nikolai could hear next, though it was never said aloud. And the worst part of it was Zoya noticing the sudden shift of his demeanor as if he wasn't the man she knew. "It could be quite forgettable indeed, Nazyalensky,” he said mildly, giving Zoya a rueful smile. And for once, he had nothing else to say. 

He watched her as the stiffness in her shoulders eased yet again, her hand coming up to the sleeve of her kefta and gently pulling at it over the amplifier around her wrist. The lack of weight on his ears became noticeable, and he tried not to reach up to it for comfort. 

His wolf-tooth amplifiers were left at the palace, stored safely in his chambers. Both Tolya and Tamar had been reluctant to have him remove the amplifier, but he insisted on leaving them as he didn’t want his abilities to strengthen all of a sudden.

And yet his previous outburst had still happened.

Nikolai gazed up to his general’s face, to the blue eyes that always held the fire and determination that kept him going, and he was reminded of someone that once had eyes of the same color as hers. The only difference was the look of disgust and fear in that person’s eyes that still haunted him even after years.

_Monster_.

He shuddered, willing the voice of his late brother away. But his voice would forever be the one battling Nikolai’s conscience, the constant reminder that he would always be the aberration in the royal family.

The worst mistake of their mother. 

Some time fifteen years ago, it would have been just a normal day for the eight-year old Nikolai, with his older brother treating him like dirt while he continued to seek Vasily’s approval. He wasn’t sure what had prompted the awakening of his powers that time. Maybe it was the fact that they had been near the lake at that time and the waters seemed to have called to him, or his patience for his brother’s constant revilement of him just reached its end. 

But whatever reason it was, everything only became worse on him from then on.

Vasily had been his idol, someone he looked up to and wanted to be like one day. Whatever he did, Nikolai showed interest in it too, all in hopes for his older brother to give him the affection and approval he always sought from Vasily. 

But instead of proud smiles, praises, or even occasional pats on the back, Nikolai received nothing but insults and mockery, anything to make him feel he didn’t belong. And as he grew up, he started to realize that maybe he wasn’t really meant to be one of them. 

A royal. A true Lantsov. 

He would always be just Nikolai, and Vasily had never failed to remind him of that.

“Run along,” his older brother had said, waving a dismissive hand towards Nikolai. He came from somewhere near the Little Palace, possibly from the labs which he started frequenting for the past weeks and Nikolai had been going there as well in hopes to talk to Vasily about anything. 

Nikolai had to run to catch up with his older brother’s wider strides. “Vasya,” he called, a skip in his steps evident due to his excitement, “have you seen the bulletproof _kefta_ the Fabrikators are trying to make? It can withstand even a sniper’s bullet!”

Vasily huffed. “They’re not trying to make it, little fool,” he said, clearly annoyed. He quickened his pace, and Nikolai still kept up with him. An exasperated expression appeared on his face. “It’s already bulletproof, and it's nothing that I don’t know of so you don’t have to tell me.”

The words stung, but Nikolai didn’t let it linger. “Since when have they been like that? And can they withstand a lot of gunshots at once?” he asked. Questions started to pile up in his mind, and he knew once his curiosity got the best of him, it would not stop. “How did the Fabrikators do it?”

His brother didn’t answer and continued walking. They had taken the long way back to the Grand Palace, rounding the narrow path by the lake at the side that led straight to the royal’s private chambers at the west. Nikolai loved the place to bits. This was where he always pictured his ‘delusions’—as per Vasily’s words—and it involved the image of an extraordinary ship that could fly. 

Here, he felt at least a bit free. He didn't even have to pretend that he was fine with anything that was happening to him. Where Vasily's sharp words brought sadness to Nikolai, the lake offered comfort, the serenity of the waters calling out to him as if it was where he belonged. 

It felt like home. So unlike the atmosphere of his family whenever they were around him. 

Nikolai tore his gaze away from the beauty of the lake. “You know, when I grow up, I want to be like you,” he told Vasily, his pace never wavering. “Like a real prince of—"

He was cut off when his older brother whirled around to face him, and he walked right into Vasily's side with a muffled _oof_ , causing Nikolai to stumble back a step. 

Vasily wore a cold, angry expression as he looked down at Nikolai. "Look here, you runt," he said, bowing down a bit and pointing a finger to his little brother's face. His next words came out harsh, and Nikolai never knew it would haunt him for the rest of his life. "You will never be like me, do you hear me? _Never_." 

Unwanted tears stung Nikolai’s eyes with his brother’s outburst. He had endured all Vasily's insults before. Even their mother had known of the humiliation he always brought to Nikolai. She was the one who told him to just let it go, and for years, he had done it. 

So why was he crying now?

"It doesn't matter whether our mother decides to keep you or possibly disown you someday. You will always be the son of some merchant. A mistake." Vasily sneered. " _Nikolai nothing_."

Something inside Nikolai’s chest snapped, and at first, there was total silence as he watched his older brother’s form walk away. Then there was the rushing of blood in his ears and he heard a voice call out to him.

_Let go._

His hand twitched. A snarl came out from his lips. He felt as if the earth was rumbling beneath his feet when his anger narrowed down to Vasily's retreating figure. 

Everything flashed before Nikolai’s eyes. All the times his brother treated him like dirt. Every insult, every mockery he had endured, and the anger Nikolai had been keeping in was much deeper than he expected. He focused on that feeling.

_Let go, Nikolai_.

And the lake erupted behind him.

Vasily only had a second to look back before a whole wave was crashing to him, sending him skidding on the pavement, and the grounds were suddenly flooded everywhere. For a long moment, there was only the sound of rushing water around him and the strange, exhilarating feeling in his chest of seeing his brother sprawled on the ground. 

Then terror took over, overwhelming Nikolai enough to make him tremble. His eyes widened as he looked down at his hands. 

What had he done? Had he done that?

He looked up and spotted Vasily yards away from where he had last been before he was thrown off, coughing up water. Nikolai recovered from his own shock and quickly ran to his older brother. 

"Vasya?" he called out as he neared, but his voice was not even more than a whisper as if he were afraid of letting him hear. He tried to speak more clearly when he stopped at his brother’s side and reached down to touch his shoulder. "Vasya, are you—" 

Vasily wrenched away from him, moving so abruptly it knocked Nikolai from his feet and he landed on the ground. "Stay away from me," his brother hissed, pointing a finger at Nikolai as he slowly backed away. Behind the resentment and anger Vasily always sent his way, there was a new emotion in his eyes that Nikolai had never seen before. _Fear_. "Don't even _dare_ come near me.”

The tears Nikolai had been holding back finally fell from his eyes, and he didn’t have the strength to wipe it away. What had he done? “I didn’t—” his voice broke as more tears fell down. “I didn’t mean to.” He shook his head, never feeling so hopeless as he was now. “ _I didn’t mean to_.”

“I should have known there was something wrong with you from the start,” Vasily spat, standing up and backing away from Nikolai like he was some kind of monster. And under his brother’s gaze, maybe he really was. Vasily looked down at Nikolai again. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Then a disgusted expression morphed on his face, followed by a scowl. He shook his head. “ _Grisha?_ It’s true, then. You’re no Lantsov.”

Nikolai thought he was already numb from hearing all the insults from his brother. But it turned out he never was, and never had been. He had only bottled it up so much thinking it would fade if he didn’t acknowledge it. He had never felt so wrong.

“Vasya, it's still me,” he said, and yet the words sounded hollow, meaningless. Could he still prove that he was what he thought he would be? “I’m still your brother.”

Vasily only shook his head, a hard look evident in his eyes, and it was his next words that Nikolai would hear in his mind for as long as he lived. “You’re a _monster._ ”

It was the last straw of him trying to gain his brother’s approval. He was never going to be accepted. Not now that people would know who he truly was. 

_Monster._

With nothing else but another glare sent his way, Vasily turned and left the area, leaving Nikolai to stare at him as he walked away. Would it have been different if he didn’t try to annoy his older brother by asking too much? Was it his fault that his unexpected powers had suddenly manifested at this time? 

He should have been stronger, braver, to take the insults and brush it off like it was nothing. And yet here he was, only giving his older brother another reason to despise him. 

Nikolai became ashamed of himself—the first emotion he felt had been euphoria, the eerie delight of finally seeing Vasily cower away from him instead of the other way around. Maybe it really was his fault. 

It had been a palace guard on patrol duty that saw him later, still sitting on the same place by the lake. Whether hours or days had passed, he didn't know. All he knew that he was exhausted, and if time allowed it, he would have stayed there by the lake that witnessed everything and yet still brought him comfort. He didn't want to go back. 

It felt more like home than the Grand Palace, anyway. 

But then his world was small and limited, and for someone young like him, he couldn't afford to run away. He was trapped and bound to live in humiliation, something bastards always experienced. Something _he_ was destined to live through. The saddest thing about it was that he couldn't do anything to change that. 

Vasily and his parents were already expecting him when he was escorted back to the throne room. His brother’s eyes were dead set on him, a burning fury evident in them. But it wasn't him that caught Nikolai's attention. It was the fourth person at the dais with them. Because of their bright kefta, it only took him a second to realize who they were. 

A living Grisha amplifier.

The king barked at the guards to leave the premises, adding that anyone caught poking around would be hanged, and then he ordered the Grisha to confirm Vasily's claims. Nikolai had the urge to run, but he forced his feet to stay where they were. He would not make it more difficult for them all.

The moment the Grisha touched his wrist, he felt his powers respond instantly. He thought he was ready to come clean, let them know the abilities that had manifested just earlier. And yet in a last, desperate attempt to conceal his powers, he still tried everything to suppress them; when he felt his powers press forward, he pushed them back. He wasn’t sure how he would be able to do it. But whatever effort he seemed to have done was futile, like preventing the tides from crashing to his ship in the middle of the storm, as the small goblet on the table beside the throne exploded, spilling wine over the dais and painting the ground blood red.

It was real. He was a Tidemaker.

_Grisha._

Nikolai wrenched his arm away as if he were burned, almost stumbling down when he did. He refused to meet his family’s eyes, and if it was still possible, he felt even smaller under their gazes. The ground could have opened up and swallowed him whole, and he wouldn’t have cared. They probably wouldn’t have cared too. Especially now that they knew about him. 

_Monster._

For a long moment, there was a complete silence in the room, and Nikolai swore he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Even without looking up, he felt their gazes on him, heavy enough to make him want to shrink smaller than he was. But it was his mother who approached and knelt down in front of him, and it was only then did he dare to meet his gaze with hers. 

She held her hands to his face and gave him a smile. Her expression was almost kind, only if it weren't for her smile that looked forced and eyes showing fear and hesitation as she searched his face. Nikolai tried not to show his sadness.

At least now he knew that even his mother was terrified of him. 

"My dearest Sobachka," she murmured, her voice mild. She gently caressed his cheek with her thumbs. When she opened her mouth to say more, she only had to close it again when she found that she didn't have anything. 

Nikolai blinked the unexpected tears away and tried to give a smile back to his mother. But it only made his face crumple, and the next thing he knew, the tears were already falling from his eyes. 

_I'm sorry,_ he was trying to say. _I'm so sorry._

He didn't know why he was apologizing, as if doing so would change the reality or undo what he had done, and yet he still did, even though he couldn't say it aloud. 

_You are no royal,_ Vasily had hissed one time. It was during the supervision of the production of weapons in the Fabrikator labs, when Nikolai gave his insight on what he knew about the material from the book he had been reading. _Know your place and keep silent._

His mother seemed to have sensed his anguish, and she pulled him in a tight embrace. In her arms, he felt safe and loved, the weight on his shoulders was somehow lifted off. He could let himself believe that maybe his mother still cared for him, that maybe she still accepted who he was. 

Nikolai could let himself believe in another lie, like the way he let himself believe that his brother would accept him. He could do it again. 

It was all he ever did, anyway. 

He finally let his eyes meet his brother's, and Nikolai still saw the lingering look of disgust in his gaze, the same one Vasily always gave Nikolai whenever he tried to talk to him.

That was the only time he realized his foolishness. How could he have let himself believe that Vasily would accept him? 

And now, as he stared at the same shade of blue eyes of his commander, Nikolai asked the same thing in his mind. 

_Can you still look at me as your king once you know the truth of who I really am? Can you still trust me?_

 _Can you still_ accept _me?_

Those questions threatened to slip out his mouth, the urge to tell her the truth stronger than he anticipated.

_She’s your General_ , a voice in his mind said. _You can trust her._

Then another one interjected. _She's had enough of another Grisha ruler controlling the country she fought tooth and nail for. Don't make it harder for her._

Nikolai clenched his fist, his nails digging to his palm enough to hurt, and he welcomed the pain. It kept him anchored to the reality he was in. 

He heard her voice before the sound of the rain falling on the carriage roof. "The weather sure is strange," muttered Zoya, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was only then he heard the patter of rain outside. She scowled at the window. "The twins don't have anything to cover themselves with. We should stop at the nearest town and let the rain pass." 

"Is that sentiment I hear, General?" Nikolai mused, earning a scowl from Zoya that made him laugh lightly. He was thankful for the easy distraction that only she could give him, and he figured he wasn’t going to ruin this comfortable interaction between them.

Even if it meant lying to her.

“It’s called consideration, Your Idiocy,” replied Zoya, and it made him laugh again. “I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking as well.”

“You put too much faith in me,” he said even before he could think of it. He winced, silently reprimanding himself of speaking his mind. This could be the reason for his demise. He should really learn to control his emotions; but years of ignoring and numbing it when he was young made it difficult for him now. 

A shadow passed over to his general’s face, and her jaw was set when she asked, “Should I not, Nikolai?” 

_If you know what’s good for you, then you shouldn’t._ The thought stung, but it was reasonable. Zoya was trusting the version of him that was the king of Ravka, someone who could be cruel in a blink of an eye and lose control of his abilities once he let his emotions take over. She was believing in someone who was lying to her who he really was.

And who was he? The young king. The former queen’s greatest mistake. The boy who once wanted his brother’s approval. The child who only wanted his family to accept him. A Tidemaker in hiding.

Nikolai nothing.

If Zoya ever met him, the real him that he had hidden beneath tons of masks he got as he grew up, could she still put her faith and trust in him? It was highly unlikely. She would want a ruler who was strong enough to lead a country and be its foundation, not someone who was unstable and always letting his emotions take over. That kind of character was the recipe for the downfall of Ravka, and they couldn’t have that.

So for the sake of anyone, he put on the mask of a monarch again, burying and forgetting the boy who was once curious about everything.

That boy wouldn’t survive this cruel world.

Nikolai covered his thoughts up with an easy grin. “I’ll let you make that decision.”

A long moment passed. Zoya observed him, the crease between her eyebrows deepening as the seconds ticked by. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t put my faith in you,” she said with all the conviction in her voice. “Because whether we both like it or not, we all are carrying the country on our shoulders. It would fall if even the trust between us is fragile. There’s no room for such predicament.” A determined look in her eyes became evident, like a fire burning in her gaze. “Am I wrong?”

“Far from it, dearest general,” he replied with a small smile. Then he shook his head. “I was merely joking earlier, and I didn’t expect the turn of this conversation.”

Zoya scowled, and just like that, the heaviness on Nikolai’s shoulders were lifted again. Where would he be without her? “Then stop saying statements with underlying meaning and keep your thoughts leveled,” she said sharply, the commanding voice of a general coming back in her tone. “And enough brooding.”

He only chuckled as he watched her open the small latch on the carriage wall behind her, where she told Tolya to detour to the nearest town where they can find shelter as they waited for the rain to stop.

And as the trip continued in silence, there was only one thought in his mind. He will not break her faith in him, even when his way of doing it was by lying to her. 

_Forgive me, Zoya,_ he thought wistfully. _But you’re more important than the truth._

Nikolai could only hope he was doing the right thing.


End file.
